GUDLO XXII. THE STORY OF “ROMMANY JŌTER.”
If a Rommany chal gets nashered an’ can’t latch his drum i’ the rātti, he shells avree, “Hup, hup—Rom-ma-ny, Rom-ma-ny jō-ter!” When the chavvis can’t latch the tan, it’s the same gudlo, “Rom-ma-ny jō-ter!” Jōter pens kett’nus.
And yeck rātti my dádas, sixty besh kennā, was pirryin’ par the weshes to tan, an’ he shooned a bitti gúdlo like bitti rānis a rākkerin’ puro tácho Rommanis, and so he jālled from yeck boro rukk to the waver, and paul’ a cheirus he dicked a tāni rāni, and she was shellin’ avree for her miraben, “Rom-ma-ny, Rom-ma-ny jō-ter!” So my dáda shokkered ajaw, “Rom-ma-ny chal, ak-ái!” But as he shelled there welled a boro bavol, and the bitti rānis an’ sār prastered avree i’ the heb like chillicos adrée a starmus, and all he shunned was a savvaben and “Rom-ma-ny jō-ter!” shukàridir an’ shukàridir, pash sar was kerro.
An’ you can dick by dovo that the kukalos, an’ fairies, an’ mullos, and chovihans all rākker pūro tàcho Rommanis, ’cause that’s the old ’Gyptian jib that was penned adrée the Scripture tem.